Dragon's Fire (12 page)

“You think Roswyn's responsible for the death of your family.”

“It seems that way,” I was surprised at how relaxed I still felt. And, with a start, safe. I hadn't felt this safe since the night before my family's murder.

“So once she lifts the curse, you're going to kill her,” Judah's voice was soft.

“I don't know,” I answered honestly.

He was silent for a moment, then said, “whatever you decide, I'll back you.”

“Thank you.” Two words seemed so inadequate for what they could represent.

“Now, let's get some sleep. We can head back to the club in the morning and find out where Roswyn lives.” He pressed his lips against my hair.

I didn't bother to tell him that I'd never sleep, not like this. I couldn't sleep with someone in my bed, not even after sex, certainly not without it. The best I'd ever managed was a half hour after passing out from an orgasm. It was just the way it was. I didn't even factor in the insanity of the night or the fact that I was being held by a were-dragon.

I was still listing reasons when sleep claimed me.

*          *          *

It was on top of me before I'd fully woken. We were a mass of arms and legs as Judah struggled to get free to help me and I tried to get my knife while a two-hundred pound rougarou tried to bite my face off.

After several terrifying seconds, I managed to get my legs beneath it and kick, sending it flying across the room. It crashed into the wall and snarled. It was getting to its feet as I scrambled for my gun. Before I could get off a shot, the hotel phone went sailing past me and struck the rougarou in the face. It slumped to the ground, unconscious, as I turned to stare at Judah.

He shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea.”

I walked over to it and looked down. “This didn't find us by accident. Add in the attack at the club and I'm beginning to think we're not welcome here.”

Judah came to stand next to me. “He looks pretty normal.”

“They do,” I agreed. “Until they feed. Then they look like that pit monster thing from Star Wars.”

“So, what do we do with him?”

I knew what came next and I hated it. Unfortunately, we were out of options. “Now, you go take a shower and I convince our friend here to tell me who sent him.”

“Convince?”

“Trust me,” my tone was grim. “You don't want to know.”

By the time Judah emerged from the bathroom, what was left of the rougarou was covered with a sheet, I was coated in its black blood and I had answers.

“The witch sent it,” I ignored the shocked expression on Judah's face. This was a part of who I was, of what I did. It wasn't pretty, but it needed to be done. “She has a room at the club.” I stepped past Judah into the bathroom. “I'm going to get cleaned up. Get the car loaded up, check out and I'll meet you in the car. We'll call Beck from the road for clean up.”

“How much time until Roswyn realizes her assassin failed?”

It was a good question and I was grateful that he wasn't focusing on what I'd done. Maybe he could handle this. “At least fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“That long?”

It had been nearly that long already since the attack so I understood his puzzlement at the extra time. I gave my reasoning before closing the bathroom door behind me. “It would have taken it at least that long to eat us.”

Chapter Ten

Tranquility was fairly deserted when we arrived but, if anything, it made me more nervous. I'd rather have the danger right out in front of me; easier to kill whatever's threatening. The door was locked, of course, but a minute with a lock-pick took care of that. It had been a tenth birthday present from my sister.

I'd worn as many of my weapons as I could without hindering my movement. Most of them were knives, but I was carrying my Rutger in a holster and a shotgun full of iron and silver bullets in my hands. I was fully prepared to forgo discussions with any Paranormal Being aside from the witch. Part of me was hoping my friends from the previous night had survived and were waiting inside. I had loaded Runed bullets with them in mind. Unless in the process of an attack, subjugates were usually a gray area since they were still technically human, but today, I'd pull the trigger without a second thought. Let's see them be able to be turned if they were missing half their head.

The interior of the club was as empty as the exterior, but I could feel the tension coming off of Judah in waves and I knew that he hadn't been fooled by the quiet either. Something was here.

“Siobhan Faust,” a voice came from the far side of the club.

I stilled and Judah did the same. He put his hand on my back, his palm burning through the thin material of my tank top. I sincerely hoped he wasn't about to shift, but I didn't turn to look, keeping my eyes on the figure emerging from the shadows.

She had plain features, but her power radiated from her. I didn't need anyone to tell me that this dark-haired woman with piercing violet eyes and snow white skin was Roswyn. Her eyes flicked from me to Judah, but didn't show even a hint of recognition.

“Roswyn the Grey-wing,” I kept my voice even despite the anger that flared up inside me at the sight of her so calm.

“Siobhan Faust,” she repeated with her bubble-gum sweet voice, a shocking contrast to her appearance. “I had wondered when I would be seeing you.” She directed her next comment to Judah. “I did not expect you to bring a pet.”

I kept my gun pointed to the side, but my finger rested on the trigger. “You cursed this man and now you're going to undo it.” I didn't expect it to be that easy, but I had to try. One look at Roswyn's face told me that I was right. I moved my gun a little more towards her.

She kept moving closer, as if the possibility of being shot didn't concern her. “A dangerous thing, curiosity. One must always be careful where one sticks one's nose.”

I didn't sense Judah's movement or even feel him pull the knife from my thigh sheath until I saw the hilt sticking out of Roswyn's shoulder. I reacted instinctively, shoving Judah back and throwing myself sideways. I squeezed off two shots as I was falling and saw them strike her chest even as magick began to crackle between her fingers.

She was still stunned when I reached her. I'd hit her square in the heart with both shots and knew it would take at least ten minutes for her to repair the damage. Witches, warlocks and necromancers could only be killed by fire. Salem had gotten that part right at least. Their victims, however, were nothing more than people in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I used the copper and steel blend wire I'd had coiled around my wrist to tie Roswyn to a chair. By the time my bullets were expelled from her chest and dropped to the floor, Judah and I were standing on either side of the witch, my knife back in my hand.

“You don't have to stay for this,” I didn't look at Judah when I said it.

“Yes, I do.” His voice was firm.

“How sweet,” Roswyn spoke as she opened her eyes. “A hunter protecting a Were.”

I pressed the tip of my blade against her throat. “Lift the curse.”

“Are you going to torture me, Siobhan, daughter of David Faust and Molly Donnell, grand-daughter of Karl and Analiese Faust, and Cormac and Elizabeth Donnell?”

A bead of blood appeared as I nicked her skin. I didn't bother to ask how she knew my ancestry. She was obviously trying to brag. “You're damn right I'm going to torture you.” I added. “And I wouldn't try any magick tricks if I were you. You're bound by Runed copper and steel.”

Roswyn scowled, her first show of emotion. I was determined that it wouldn't be her last. “Let me guess with what you will threaten me. You will say that you will pull my nails, my teeth, take my sight, maybe a finger or two. But you will do none of that. They are words, nothing more.”

I leaned closer to her, letting my voice take on the hunter cold that was stealing over me. “That's not my plan at all. You see, nails, teeth, those are too easy to replace. Even a missing finger or two is easy to hide with gloves. You're powerful enough that you could even glamor those things so that other people can't see them. As for your eyes, I would never take them. After all, you will need them to see what I am going to do to you.”

A flash of fear went through her eyes and I knew that she was beginning to believe me capable of torture.

“I know that glamors only work on humans, so even as powerful as you are, you could never make another creature like yourself think you are anything but plain, though most would overlook that for your power. What I will do, what I am going to do, is make you so hideous that even your power will be unable to entice your kind to be with you.” I ran my knife up to her cheek and placed the edge of my blade at her cheekbone. “You're old enough that I'm sure you've seen what it looks like when a person is flayed. Now, humans, they'd never survive, but a witch such as yourself, I could skin you from head to toe and you'd heal. Excruciatingly painful, but you would heal. Unless, of course, I happened to be using a Runed blade.” Her eyes widened. “The skin will grow again, but it will be corrupted by the Runes burned into your flesh. You will be covered with twisted, scarred tissue that even you will never be able to fix.”

“You wouldn't,” her voice was a whisper.

“I would.”

She searched my face, looking for an ounce of mercy, a mere hint of hesitation or dishonesty. I held the image of my family in my mind to keep my resolve strong. After just a minute, I knew that it had worked.

“I can't lift the curse.” She slumped in the chair.

“You're lying,” Judah spoke now and I was pleased to hear that his voice was strong. I hadn't been sure how what I'd said would affect him.

“No,” Roswyn shook her head. “It's not a hex, so there's no spell to lift. I used what we used to call a 'beauty and the beast' curse.”

“The fairy tale?” I straightened. That was an excuse I'd never heard before.

Roswyn nodded. “The only way for him to be cured is to find someone who loves him enough to risk their life to stay with him through an entire change cycle, sundown to sunrise. It has to be done voluntarily and out of love.”

I tilted my blade as if I were going to start a cut.

“I swear!” She tried to pull away. “I swear by the White, Black and Red! I swear by my order!”

“I heard that your order excommunicated you,” I didn't remove the knife.

“They did,” she nodded. “But I found another.”

I pulled my knife back. “She's telling the truth.”

“How do you know?” Judah asked.

I looked at him and he didn't look away. A surge of relief went through me. He hadn't been freaked out by what I'd said. “A witch or warlock who swears by the White, Black and Red as well as by their order is bound by their own magick. If she were lying, she'd be dead.”